


Roadside Disaster

by PrincessPhoenix



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Consent Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 05:21:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessPhoenix/pseuds/PrincessPhoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where Stiles was bit instead of Scott, he convinces Scott to try and run away from the world of werewolves. Peter isn't about to let his beta go, and instead adds a new one to his pack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roadside Disaster

**Author's Note:**

> Very dubious consent bordering on noncon. In an AU where Stiles was bit instead of Scott, but Peter still takes an interest in Scott because Stiles refuses to kill Scott.

“Do you think that he’ll try to follow us?” Scott asked, craning his neck behind him. “If he’s as bad as you say, do you think that we’re going to be in trouble for trying to run away?”

“He can’t be and we shouldn’t be,” Stiles said, his eyes on the road. “I told Derek to hold him in Beacon Hills long enough for us to escape.” He reached out and placed his hand on Scott’s shoulder and squeezed. “It’s going to be okay Scott. You should trust me more.”

“I do trust you,” Scott said, batting Stiles’ hand away. “I trusted you enough to pick up and leave in the middle of the night for who knows how long! Without telling my mom!” Scott let his head fall against the seat. “Stiles, she’s going to kill me.”

“If Peter doesn’t kill us first,” Stiles said. Scott turned his head and scowled.

“You said that he wasn’t going to follow us.”

“He won’t! Relax!” Stiles laughed. “I was kidding.”

“This really isn’t a situation to joke about,” Scott muttered. “Where are we going to go?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles said. “New York?” He looked over at Scott and Scott shrugged. “Utah? Texas?”

“We’re going to leave the state?” Scott said, lifting his eyebrows.

“If we didn’t, he’d find a way to locate us,” Stiles said. “I don’t know about you Scott, but I don’t want him to find us.”

“How likely is it?” Scott asked, peering over his shoulder again. “Are we going to wake up one night and find him in our apartment or whatever?” He looked over at Stiles, who looked back at him and shrugged. “Stiles… You can’t keep these kinds of things from me. Not if we’re going to run away together like this.”

“I thought you trusted me,” Stiles said, stepping on the gas harder. Scott looked out the window.

“I do,” he said. “I do. I just need to know if we’re actually going to be in trouble down the road.” He looked over at Stiles. “I need to know if leaving Beacon Hills is worth it. My mom thinks we’re going to the park, Stiles!”

“And my dad thinks that he’s going to come home to find me,” Stiles said. He flicked his eyes to Scott and back to the road. “We’re both sacrificing something here, Scott.” Stiles reached out again and grabbed Scott’s hand. Scott frowned and pulled his hand away, running it through his hair.

“I know.” Scott said and then was silent, keeping his gaze on the window. Stiles looked at Scott for a moment before focusing on the road, lips pressed together. Scott stared out the window, looking up at the sky, the dark clouds covering the stars. He looked back at the side of the road, his head hitting the windshield, cooled by the rain falling outside. Stiles put on some music, patting his hands to the beat, and Scott almost lost himself in the weird normality of it all. His pulse slowed and he smiled, staring out the window.

Scott paused, pressing his face against the window and squinting. In the dark there seemed to be red pinpricks of light looking at them, moving with them through the woods. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, opening them to the sight of the red lights growing closer.

“Stiles?” he said, looking over at Stiles.

“Hm?”

“Something’s following us,” Scott said, jerking his thumb at the window. His eyes were locked onto the rapidly approaching red lights. In the edges of the headlights Scott saw white teeth and black fur, a monster’s countenance. “Stiles, what the hell is that?” he shouted before the monster rammed them.

Stiles shouted, twisting away into the woods. They barreled through the trees until Stiles’ jeep hit one head on, sending Scott and Stiles forward against their seat belts. Scott groaned, holding one hand to his head, letting it come away with blood. Stiles sniffed, his broken nose shifting into place with a loud pop.

“Are you alright?” Stiles asked, looking over at Scott. Scott nodded, looking ahead.

“I don’t think the jeep is,” Scott said, opening his door. Stiles’ hand shot out and pinned Scott to the seat, eyes blue.

“Scott, close the door.”

“What?” Scott shot Stiles a look, eyes lingering on the downturned mouth and tight eyes. He pulled the door shut with a click. Stiles squirmed lower in his seat, tugging on Scott’s shirt. “Stiles, what?”

“It’s him, it’s Peter, that thing is Peter,” Stiles whispered. “Now please, stop talking. He can hear us!”

There is a snort and Stiles paled. Scott looked out the driver side’s window, eyes widening at the shape that approached them. Stiles’ head whipped around to stare and he scrabbled out of his seat, pressing against Scott, claws protruding from his fingertips. Scott’s heart pounded and the shape outside cocked its head, fingers reaching for the door.

With a twist of metal Stiles’ door came free and the monster reached in to pull Stiles out and throw him against a tree. Stiles hit with a grunt and fell, covering his face with his arms. The monster stalked over and pinned Stiles to the ground, pushing its face right into Stiles’ and roaring. Stiles skittered backwards against the tree, eyes glowing blue and whining. The monster shrank, the fur receding into his skin, light brown hair replacing the thick black fur.

“Now,” Peter said, looking down at Stiles, “do you regret running?”

Scott fumbled with his pocket, pulling out his inhaler and sucking through it, lungs clearing. Peter turned, red eyes running up and down Scott. He grinned, and Scott’s pulse leaped. Scott had seen that grin so many times, and something inside of his heart broke.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way, Scott,” Peter said, advancing. Stiles growled, crouching, and Peter snarled. “I’m sorry you had to see what you did.” Peter crouched before the opening into the car, aiming a smile at Scott and reaching out a hand. Scott stared at it, heart hammering. “Was I ever bad to you?”

“No,” Scott admitted, hurt clouding his voice, making it thick. “But you lied to me! Used me!”

Peter’s fingers beckoned and Scott pressed against the passenger side door. “Did I?” Peter asked.

“Yes,” Stiles said and Scott nodded. Peter sent a look towards Stiles, but Stiles was standing now, his half wolf form emerging. Scott looked away as Peter stood, attention diverted. “You lied to him, and used him to try and hurt me.”

“Or,” Peter said, “I was interested in him.”

“You’re like fifty!” Stiles shouted.

“In my thirties, actually,” Peter said, running a hand along his jaw. “Do I look that old, Scott?” he asked and Scott started as Peter’s appearance began to change, the black hair Scott had tangled his fingers in so many times replacing sandy hair, the cold blue eyes replaced by blue eyes with a spark. The broad shouldered body shrunk until the figure of Scott’s boyfriend—ex now, Scott thought—stood in Peter’s place, hands jammed into his pockets.

“You’re a liar,” Scott said. “How could I ever trust what you say?”

Peter clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and looked over at Stiles. “I suppose you shouldn’t,” he admitted. “Still, your friend needs to be punished for disobeying me.” He pinned Scott with a look and Scott swallowed. “Maybe I can be persuaded to avoid tearing his throat out with a little… incentive.”

“Fuck off, Scott won’t do anything for you ever again!” Stiles snarled, rushing Peter. Scott rushed forward, stumbling over the seat, as Peter caught Stiles by the throat and raised him into the air. Stiles’ claws scraped at Peter’s fingers, the wounds inflicted knitting together as fast as they were made. Stiles’ feet kicked, and his mouth gasped for air that was not going through. Peter looked at Scott, who came out of the jeep and stood, tensed.

“What are you going to do, Scott?” Peter asked and Scott tensed. Those eyes that swept over him were so familiar, the voice as confident as before, the ever-present smirk that once made Scott’s pulse jump now filling his veins with ice. “I can end him now, or you can accept the punishment in his place.”

“What are you going to do?” Scott asked, looking at Stiles’ face turn blue. Peter chuckled and reached out, claws digging into Scott’s wrist as Peter pulled Scott closer. Scott closed his eyes, fought to keep his breathing calm.

“Why, do what Stiles would hate for me to do,” Peter said, lifting his hand to stroke along Scott’s jaw. Scott’s eyes snapped open as Peter pulled Scott against him. “Turn you.”

Peter dropped Stiles and wrapped his fingers around the back of Scott’s head, crushing their lips together. Stiles gasped for air as Peter dipped Scott back, hand bunching around the bottom of Scott’s shirt, pushing his tongue into Scott’s mouth. Peter crouched down, resting Scott against the ground, straddling him. 

Stiles took a deep breath and looked over and roared. He stood and stalked forward, feet digging into the wet ground. Peter pulled away from Scott’s lips, Scott’s head following before hitting the ground. Peter looked back at Scott and ran his hand along Scott’s neck, fingers resting at the base of Scott’s neck. Stiles stopped, pulse pounding as he met Peter’s eyes.

“Would you like to join in?” Peter growled, eyes glowing red. Stiles dropped to his knees, shaking his head. “Then,” Peter said, leaning forward, “stay. Silent.”

Stiles nodded, bowing his head with a whine. Peter turned his attention back to Scott.

“Where should I bite you?” Peter wondered. “I’ve already seen everything,” he continued, leaning his head down to kiss Scott’s neck. Stiles watched from his knees, whining. “Your friend is concerned,” Peter whispered against Scott’s ear. Scott answered with a snarl and Peter chuckled, pressing the heels of his palms into Scott’s chest.

“Most of the time I like to bite on the hip,” he mused. “It takes better and doesn’t bleed as much, which means for a faster transformation.” He drums his fingers along Scott’s chest, listening to Scott’s heartbeat increase. He sent a sly look to Stiles, leaning down to press his lips against Scott’s neck again. “The wrist is easily hidden, but you won’t be going back before the wound heals,” Peter told Scott.

“Now,” Peter said, looking at Stiles and tapping Scott’s neck. Stiles watched the way Peter’s claws slid along Scott’s neck, the way Scott tilted his hips upward, eyes vacant. “The neck has too many blood vessels and arteries to be a viable bite site. It would be too easy to kill.” Peter tilted his head and pushed up Scott’s shirt. He ran a hand along Scott’s muscles, leaning down to add his tongue. Scott and Stiles both whined, and Peter grinned.

“I think we found a winner,” Peter said, running his teeth along Scott’s abs until he sank his teeth into Scott’s side. Scott yelled out, bucking upwards and Peter held on, sinking his teeth into Scott’s skin. Peter closed his eyes to hide the momentary loss of red eyes. He could feel part of him slipping away, burrowing deep into Scott’s mind. It was deeper than anything, deep enough that Scott could barely feel it and cried out at the pain from the bite. A wonderful distraction, pain, Peter thought.

Scott subsided and Peter pulled his head away, turning to Stiles. Peter beckoned and Stiles stumbled forward, falling to his hands and knees again. Peter cupped Stiles’ chin, tilting it upward, eyes glowing red. Stiles stared at Peter’s mouth, wet and red with Scott’s blood. Peter chuckled and kissed Stiles, and the younger werewolf licked at the blood with a whine.

Peter pulled away, shoving Stiles onto his back. Peter looked down at Scott who was feebly pushing at Peter’s chest, sweat running down his forehead. “Oh, Scott,” Peter murmured, pressing a kiss to Scott’s forehead. “I’m hurt that you don’t want me anymore.”

“Why would I?” Scott sputtered, gasping as Peter changed, dropping the disguise. The older Peter studied Scott, pulling his lips back to reveal fangs.

“You wanted me before,” he said, fingertips ghosting along Scott’s cheek. “Has your mind changed so easily?” He kissed Scott, forcing his tongue past tight lips and clenched teeth, slipping his hands under Scott’s shirt. From behind them Peter heard Stiles’ heavy breaths and deepened the kiss, pulling Scott’s head forward. Scott let out a breathy moan when Peter ground their hips together and Peter moved his lips to Scott’s neck and sucked. The mark remained before healing, fading with Scott’s new healing powers, and Scott’s eyes turned a beautiful gold. Peter missed that innocence, and swore to break it.

Peter pulled back and pushed himself into a crouching position, picking Scott up and turning him, pressing his front against the ground. He looked back at Stiles and licked his lips. “You should appreciate this,” Peter said as he hooked his fingers into Scott’s jeans and pulled. Stiles watched as Peter pulled down Scott’s pants, and then his boy shorts. Both raised their eyebrows and exchanged a glance.

“Was he wearing those for me?” Peter asked, and Stiles shrugged. Peter rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Scott, raking his eyes along Scott’s body. With a soft sound he undid his pants and pulled out his dick. Peter’s eyes locked with Stiles as Peter thrust into Scott, moaning from the tightness. He pulled Scott towards him and sank his teeth into Scott’s shoulder, turning them both to face Stiles. Peter thrust into Scott, sometimes slow, other times hard and fast. Stiles watched, jaw agape, while Scott writhed and moaned, hands grasping at Peter’s sleeves.

As Stiles watched, he was dragged from his reverie by Scott’s pained whines and the blood trailing down from Scott’s shoulder. Peter’s thrusts came erratically as Stiles blinked, looking at Scott’s golden eyes, the way Scott’s breath dragged through his mouth and stuck in his throat as Peter sped up and slowed down, lips moving against Scott. Peter’s eyes were red as he ran his tongue along Scott’s shoulder, cleaning the blood, and Stiles crawled forward. He looked at Peter, but the alpha’s face was buried into where Scott’s curled hair met his neck. Stiles pressed his forehead to Scott’s, reclaimed one of Scott’s hands and threaded his fingers through them. Their eyes met, cold blue and warm gold, and Scott pressed his forehead against Stiles’.

Peter pushed into Scott, raising his eyes and watching them with a smile. Scott moaned aloud, head rolling back as the pleasure hit him, Peter filling him. Scott’s head lolled back against Stiles as Peter leaned forward, waiting for his knot to ease.

“Will you run anymore?” he asked Stiles. Stiles looked at him and swallowed.

“No,” he said, voice hardened with anger. Peter smiled, running his claws along Stiles’ cheek.

“Would you like to take my place?” Stiles jerked away and shook his head, looking at his feet. Peter sighed and nuzzled Scott’s neck, pressing his lips to the hollow of Scott’s ear. Scott’s eyes met Stiles and held them, despair and shame written in every inch of them, and Stiles swallowed.

“Next time,” Peter murmured and Stiles dragged his eyes away from Scott to stare at Peter. “Next time, you will.” Peter pulled out of Scott, groaning. He tossed the pants and the underwear at Stiles, who caught it with a slack jaw. He busied himself with pushing them onto Scott while Peter watched, lips twitching into a smile.

Stiles looked up and bared his teeth, shifting to cover Scott. Peter rolled his eyes and turned away.

“You brought this on him,” Peter said, looking back over his shoulder. “Derek will be by to pick you both up within the hour. I’ll be making sure that you stay in Beacon Hills. If you leave again, I will hunt you down and kill Scott. Then I’ll make you kill everyone you ever thought of loving.”

With one last look at the pair, Peter walked into the night, leaving Stiles to hug Scott to his chest and try not to cry for the both of them.


End file.
